Until The Night
by sheba6086
Summary: Sookie and Eric haven't spoken since an argument a week ago, but she gets a text. He's coming to her, but now she has to wait, until the night. ... Sookie, Eric and the world in which they live are the property of Charlaine Harris. As always I am grateful for her generosity and willingness to share.


I Write The Songs . CONTEST ENTRY

TITLE: **Until The Night**

DISCLAIMER:

Sookie, Eric and the world in which they live are the property of Charlaine Harris. As always I am grateful for her generosity and willingness to share.

The song, which provided the inspiration, is 'Until The Night' by Billy Joel.

BETA NAME: the ever lovely and patient, NorthmanMaille

TEASER:

Sookie and Eric haven't spoken since an argument a week ago, but she gets a text. He's coming to her, but now she has to wait, until the night.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

- if you have no objection, I will be there tonight. E -

Sookie read the text again as she stood dripping on her bedroom floor. _Damn_, she thought when she realized she'd rushed directly from the shower, without so much as grabbing a towel to wrap herself, let alone actually pausing to dry off.

Despite having reread the text a million times in the fifteen minutes between waking and her shower, then repeating the words aloud, placing emphasis on a different syllable each time, in an effort to narrow down Eric's exact meaning when he sent the message.

Sookie was only certain of one thing. After their weeklong separation, he did not intend to betray his feelings one second before they were face to face. He would want to be able to see her reactions, to his carefully selected words, to his presence.

She tried to work up some good old-fashioned righteous anger over his high handedness, but she couldn't. If this stalemate between them was going to end, she knew she had to at least _try_ to be fair. After all, she was being just as stubborn and childish as him. They were both waiting for the other to admit he or she was wrong, when neither had actually committed any true offense.

They had a disagreement, that was all, a simple difference of opinion over, of all things, what kind of car he was going to buy for her birthday. How ridiculous was _that_?

She smiled as she remembered his face as he ran off a list of flashy sports cars for her to choose from. He seemed so genuinely happy as he described each one in detail, telling her about all of the available options and safety features.

"Pick the one you want, Lover, and I'll have them paint it bright electric blue, with so much glitter it will blind every other driver on the road as you fly past them. We'll see how long it takes you to fill a room with speeding tickets."

She recalled his spontaneous laughter. It was so full of joy. He was clearly delighted with being able to offer her such a gift. But she managed to put a stop to that quick enough. It only took one sentence to bring his cheerfulness to a grinding halt. Some crazed little imp in the corner of her mind wondered if perhaps that wasn't some sort of record time. She ignored it.

"If you want to buy me a car, Eric, what I really need is a pick-up."

The temperature in the room seemed to instantly drop twenty degrees and she watched as the joy in his face crumbled. In a matter of only seconds his expression went from confusion, to hurt, to anger and finally to tolerant resignation.

Her efforts to correct her error only served to make things worse. She tried explaining how there had been many times when she wished she had a pick-up for moving and hauling things. It was so annoying having to depend on Jason or someone else every time she needed a truck.

At first he answered her with only silence. She would have done well to leave it at that, but oh no, she was never one for leaving bad enough alone. She kept right on digging her hole.

When he reached his limit, he stood up and removed a slim leather wallet from his hip pocket. He took out a credit card and dropped it in her lap. She would rather have him slap her.

"My apologies, madam, for neglecting to ask if you needed anything. I would not have you go without necessities. However, in future I would hope for you to make your privations known so you are not in the position of having to wait for them to be gifted to you."

He didn't wait for a response. He disappeared into the night and there had been no contact between them since, until his text.

She needed to text him back. When he woke, he would check his messages right away and he would be sure to notice the time her response came. She could say she didn't see his text for a while because she didn't check her phone first thing, but she couldn't wait too much longer.

She decided to try and come up with something brilliant after getting dressed. She couldn't think clearly when she was standing there naked and wet.

She had no more than opened her underwear drawer when the words came to her. To hell with brilliance, she wanted him here, in Bon Temps, in her bed.

- Until the night then. No objections. I'll be waiting. Sookie -

As she got dressed, she thought about her to do list. She needed to keep herself busy all day so she didn't have time to stress over tonight. She stopped to rethink her outfit when she decided to go for a mani/pedi at the new nail salon in the strip mall with Tara's Togs. Jeans were definitely in the way when you were having a pedicure. She changed into a pair of comfy terry cloth shorts.

By the time she got to her car, her entire day was neatly mapped out in her head. First on the list was to hit the nail salon and then over to Tara's see if she could find a cute new matching bra and panties set.

She wasn't sure why exactly, but she hadn't expected the nail salon to be as busy as it was. It was the middle of the week. Who would have thought five other women, in Bon Temps, would be having their nails done before noon?

A cheerful woman with a pleasant smile and long dark hair pulled back in a pony tail, looked up from the customer she was working on, greeted Sookie and asked what she was looking for today.

"Just a mani/pedi," Sookie replied, glancing down at the long fake nails being applied to the customer's fingertips.

"Very good," the woman said with a big smile. "Pick a color and we'll be right with you." She pointed out several wall mounted nail polish racks strategically placed around the room.

There were dozens of colors she might have chosen on any other day, but today called for fire engine red, no question. She had no sooner made her choice, than a woman about her own age was there behind her.

"Red is always a good choice," the woman said.

There was something familiar about her, but Sookie couldn't quite place it. "Thanks."

"Right this way," the woman said. Sue Anne, was the name on the oval tag above her left breast. She recognized Sookie from school and was wondering if Sookie recognized her too. "The chair closest to the sink."

Sookie did not recognize her, so she just smiled and sat down in the chair and removed her sandals. She felt a little guilty about it, but she poked around a little in Sue Anne's head to see if she could figure out who she was.

Sue Anne pushed a series of buttons on the arm of the chair to start the back massage. "Here, I'll take those," she said, reaching for Sookie's shoes. She ran the foot basin full of warm water and began the pedicure.

Sue Anne kept a fairly steady chatter as she worked. Thankfully the conversation didn't require much participation from Sookie. She could let herself relax and enjoy the massage and pedicure. This was definitely better than painting her own toenails. She might be perfectly capable of getting the polish in nice even coats, but the foot rub and pampering that went along with this was something she couldn't do for herself.

As Sue Anne was finishing up with Sookie's manicure, she rattled off a memorized list of other services the salon offered; everything from waxing to body wraps to an assortment of exotic and expensive sounding skin treatments.

Sookie decided on a bikini wax and Sue Anne smiled in response. She made a commission on talking the customers into added treatments, and she really needed the money.

When her beauty treatments were done, Sookie paid and gave Sue Anne a generous tip. She had her hand on the door when she jerked back around and faced Sue Anne. "You're Sue Baxter from science class! You fainted when we dissected frogs. I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn't place how I remembered you. How are you?"

Sue was clearly taken aback. She expected it at first, but when Sookie didn't say anything she assumed Sookie either didn't remember her or did remember, but didn't want to acknowledge it. She took a step back.

"I go by Sue Anne now," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. "And I got married, so it's Sue Anne Mason."

Sookie remembered how in high school she used to think Sue Baxter was probably the only girl in school as lonely as her. She had often thought they would make good friends for one another, but like so many others, Sue had been afraid of her. She'd been too much of a freak for even Sue Baxter to want to hang around her.

Sookie could see Sue Anne's life now and it wasn't happy. When her husband argued with her, it wasn't over him wanting to give her extravagant gifts. She had a sudden urge to give Sue another, larger tip, but the woman was already embarrassed by the loud way Sookie remembered her. She was still painfully shy.

"Well, thank you, Sue Anne. I'm sure I'll be back again. You're really good at this." Sookie gave her a warm smile and left, but Sue Anne lingered in her thoughts. She hadn't lied. She would come back. She would get manicures and keep an eye out for signs of Sue Anne's arguments with her husband going beyond words.

For now though, it was time to slip over to Tara's Togs and find something sexy to dress that bikini wax in.

Trying on lingerie comes with its own set of special challenges. Health laws prohibit you from trying on panties or swimsuits if you're naked. So if you want to be able to try them on, you have to plan ahead for your shopping trip and make sure you're appropriately dressed. For example, trying on thongs over thongs gave new meaning to uncomfortable, so if you left your house wearing a thong, you would have to shop by eye alone.

But Sookie was prepared. She stood in front of the dressing room three-way mirror stripped down to her granny panties. _Ridiculous_, she thought, _but_ _practical_. She had discovered a pair of snug fitting plain white granny panties were the best way to go. They showed off other colors well and gave you the best feel for what the final fit would actually be.

She had her selections narrowed to six sets. Her favorite, on the hanger, was black lace over red satin, but when she got it on, she was disappointed to realize the bra pinched on the sides and the lace on the thong scratched her inner thighs. It would have to be trimmed and that would ruin the pattern. The bottom line was, it was pretty but not comfortable, and so it went in the no pile.

When she'd tried them all, she decided on an aqua colored demi-cup bra with a swirling pattern done in teal stitching. Rather than a thong, the matching panties were slightly more substantial. They were French cut, high on the hip and with just a hint of a soft teal ruffle, much gentler on the skin than lace.

With her selection made and Tara not in the building today, there was nothing to reasonably allow for Sookie killing more time here. When she got to her car it was barely even one in the afternoon. The only other thing she had to do before going back home was a quick stop at the grocery store to pick up some TruBlood. When she was making her list of things to do to take up her day, she was counting on being able to spend at least an hour gossiping with Tara, maybe even stretching it into a lunch. With that option gone, she would be left with a lot of time to fill.

Sitting there worrying about killing time was a lousy way to kill time. She started her car and headed to the grocery store

She parked in the middle of the lot, despite there being plenty of closer spaces to choose from. She took her time walking in. She was only coming after TruBlood, but she got a pushcart, just in case. You never know, there might be a manager's special on toilet paper or something and she might want to stock up. It wouldn't do to be way on the other side of the store and find herself in need of a cart.

She went straight to the TruBlood. She could find it blindfolded. She bought it so often she felt like an investor in the company. As always she caught herself standing there with a silly look on her face, wondering what type to buy.

Though she'd asked several times, Eric never expressed a preference. He never said so explicitly, but she suspected her found it all equally disgusting and saying he liked one type better than another would imply he liked the one, and he was not willing to do that.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be told she would have to live the rest of her life eating nothing but lima beans and salt free cabbage soup. It might keep her alive, but she wasn't at all sure it would be worth it. Then she thought of that life going on for centuries.

"I couldn't do it," she muttered, grabbing two 4-packs of TruBlood off the shelf without even looking at the type. What difference did it make?

Less than five minutes later she was back in her car and headed home. If toilet paper was on sale, she missed the bargain because she never went near that section of the store.

When she got home, she put the TruBlood in the fridge and made a pitcher of sweet peach tea and sliced a lemon into it. Apparently it gave her blood a slightly sweet and tangy flavor Eric was fond of.

She poured a large glass of tea and sat down at her desk with the phone. She needed to call Jason. She hadn't heard from him in a couple of days and she didn't want to risk him showing up on her doorstep tonight and interrupting anything. Of course, she was assuming there would be something going on she didn't want interrupted. If Eric was still angry and they were arguing, she might be grateful for a disruption. No, she wasn't going to get bogged down in negative thinking.

She was surprised when Jason answered after only the first ring. She'd expected it to go straight to voicemail, since it was the middle of the workday.

Turns out Jason and Hoyt were at Merlotte's having a late lunch. Over the course of the next twenty minutes she turned down invitations to join them for lunch and to join them for bowling in Monroe later tonight. It was nice to know if she didn't have other plans she wouldn't have to be alone. She could always go bowling.

After talking to Jason she was left without anything else to do, so she fell back on her go to activity. She cleaned her house. Mostly she cleaned things that didn't really need cleaning, but she cleaned them well. So well, in fact, her arms were starting to get achy by late afternoon.

She looked up at the clock and butterflies instantly started fluttering in her stomach. It wouldn't be long now. She'd have a sandwich, then a hot shower to refresh her muscles and her mind. By the time she was dried and dressed it would be almost sunset. She'd sit out on the front porch with a book. No, the porch would look like she was too anxious. She'd sit in the living room, but she'd open the drapes wide so she could see up the driveway as far as possible.

Her shower went by quickly. Sookie toweled off and picked up the blow dryer to dry her hair. When she finished, she wrapped the towel around herself and came out into the bedroom to dress. She looked at the clock on the bedside table and glanced over to the window for verification. It would be at least half an hour before sundown, more likely closer to forty-five minutes.

With the bag from Tara's Togs lying untouched on the dresser, Sookie sat down on the side of the bed. She hadn't realized just how tired she was. She'd been so busy distracting her mind she hadn't taken the time to consider the effect all that distracting activity was having on her body. She stared out the window and leaned back into her pillows, deciding to rest as she watched for the coming nightfall.

Sookie woke with a start. She was still naked, her towel had fallen open, leaving her exposed, and it was dark except for the light of a clear, starry night streaming through the window. Her panicked mind was racing. She'd fallen asleep. She had to get dressed. What time was it? Her head whipped around to look at the clock on the bedside table. She saw him sitting in a wicker chair between the bed and the door, watching her.

She wasn't able to stop herself. She screamed.

When he responded by snickering like a little boy, her first instinct was to order him out of the room, but she was able to catch herself before doing it. She could see the clock out of the corner of her eye now. The sun had set at least half an hour ago. "How long have you been here?"

He leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers in front of him. "When a person is truly waiting for something to happen, it's usually customary for them to notice when it does."

She was relieved to notice he didn't sound angry. "I fell asleep."

"Yes, making the welcome I received upon arrival somewhat underwhelming. I was so looking forward to something a little more, umm, arousing."

"Me too! I spent all day getting ready! Then I started cleaning and got tired. I – wait a minute. What have you been doing?"

"Afraid I might have burgled your house while you were sleeping?" he asked with a mocking chuckle. "Not to worry. If I decide to take up a career in petty theft, I'll begin it in more prosperous surroundings than Bon Temps."

He paused, then grinned and added, "but perhaps you're concerned I took advantage in a more, personal fashion?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Now you're just trying to annoy me, but I wouldn't put it past you to try anything."

"Your suspicions are crushing," he said, slapping his hand to his chest in an exaggerated gesture. "I might not require a pulse, Sookie, but I have always insisted my lovers, at a minimum, be conscious. There are many things I could have done without your knowledge as you slept, but you have my assurance, having sex with you is not among them." A sly grin slowly curled his lips. "But since you brought it up, I can't help but notice, you now appear to be awake."

"I don't want to fight any more," she said.

"I wasn't suggesting we fight. There would be no point. I'm too much stronger than you. There's no question I would win. Are you sure you're awake?"

"Ugh." She let out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes again. "I must be awake. You're never this infuriating in my dreams."

His cocky grin grew into a full on, light up a pitch-dark cave, exploding ego smile. "You dream about me. Excellent! Tell me, Lover, what am I doing in these dreams?" He leaned forward and waited for her response.

She raised an eyebrow. "You want me to talk dirty to you?"

He kicked his shoes off and moved onto the side of the bed. "I asked what I was doing in the dreams, but if what you're doing is talking dirty, then by all means, start there."

"You're impossible!"

"Not at all," he whispered. "I'm very, _very_ easy."

And with that, he was on her. He reached out for her and dragged her across the bed and into his arms.

"How long would you have kept sitting there, watching me sleep?" She asked between kisses.

"Until I was tempted to forego requiring consciousness."

"Good thing you're a patient man."

"Good thing you woke up."

Working in perfect unison, they had him out of his clothes in mere seconds. There was no awkward fumbling, no wasted effort, only the well practiced interaction of two lovers quickly performing a necessary task with minimal loss of body contact.

This was it._ This_ was why she was such a ball of raw nerves all day. Every fiber of her being was jittering with anticipation of this. She could distract her mind. She could think up things to do; make lists, run errands, read a book, listen to music, hell, she could run through multiplication tables if she had to. Her thoughts could be occupied with something else, at least for short periods of time.

Ah, but her body, that was another matter entirely.

The desires of her flesh could not be misdirected or consoled with diverting activities. When she dressed this morning, she felt her hands putting her clothes on, but her skin remembered his much larger hands doing the same job in reverse. She bought TruBlood, but the blood in her veins yearned to be bent to the will of his fangs.

In the salon, her every pore cried out in open rebellion every time someone touched her hair, her face, her hands or feet. Their touch simply wouldn't do. His was the only touch she craved, the only one that could satisfy the fierce hunger burning her alive and threatening to slowly drive her mad.

After more than a week, he was here again at last, in her bed and inside her, filling her with his passion, quenching the flames of her longing and replacing it with the flash fire immediacy of gratifying their lust for each other.

They would have all night for intimacy and pleasurable expressions of their love. Love and respect were matters of the mind and their minds would have to wait. For now, the carnal demands of their bodies would not be denied. No moderation, no bounds of reason, only the urgent coupling of two people motivated by instinct alone.

Sookie woke with a smile on her face. When she rolled over and looked at the clock, she didn't even care it was already well past noon. Eric said he would sleep in the cubby, and with the morning gone; it was that much closer to sunset.

They hadn't done much talking last night, but they had communicated volumes. Everything would be all right between them, or at least it would be as close to all right as it ever was.

She climbed out of bed and slipped on a pair of panties and an oversized T-shirt before heading for the kitchen.

"I think it's a French Vanilla morning," she said aloud, remembering the can of Folger's French Vanilla coffee she'd bought when it was on sale and still hadn't opened.

She hummed happily to herself as she opened the coffee and measured it into the filter. She grabbed the carafe, stepped to the sink and turned on the water. As the carafe filled, she looked out the window over the sink to watch the sun filter through the leaves at the tree line, but her eyes never made it that far. She stood staring out the window until the carafe overflowed and water spilled out over her hand.

Parked in the driveway, with a massive red ribbon bow tied to the roof, was a pick-up truck. The shiniest pick-up she'd ever seen. It was high gloss electric blue with so much metallic glitter it twinkled like a field of stars when hit by the sun.


End file.
